Praeter
by miss lizz
Summary: It's finished! Something primordial wakes up and feeds off of souls. JLA, mostly MMWW. Please RR.
1. Default Chapter

Praeter

Author: Miss Lizz ^_^

Rating: R for death, life, love, loss, dreams and nightmares.

Disclaimers: I own naught.  Stay your legal issues.  Why must I write this?

Ch. 1: Motion 

Fire and Ice 

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favour fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

            --Robert Frost (1874-1963)

            It had been a long time since the waiting began.  Aeons.  Eternities.  An endless time to wait.  All over now, all over.  Time comes for work, for destiny to take place.  Waited a long time for this.

            Time for the beginning.  Time for the end.  Time for it.  

            Somewhere in the Otherworlds, in a dark realm, something wakes.  

            It had seemed a trivial thing, the Joker hit the city of angels for a vacation of fun and mayhem and two went to fetch him, Batman being held up by Poison Ivy in Gotham.  The two after the mad clown—Martian Manhunter and Wonder Woman—soon found it was not a trivial matter.  He had planned for them, it appeared.  He knew the manhunter's weakness and used it.  When the incendiary device the Joker hid in the warehouse detonated in a fiery blast, the powerful Martian threw himself atop his Amazonian friend in an effort to shield her body from the worst of the damage.  A human would have been very easily killed from the blast, had they been human, they would have died.  For a moment it felt as if they had anyway.

            Something warm and wet dripping onto her was the first thing she noticed after the aches and the mad cackling of a boasting Joker.  The coppery, sickly sweet tang of blood assaulted her nose and she dimly wondered whose blood it was.  J'onn?  Was he bleeding?  

            _Oh, gods, it is him.  How badly is he injured?  How long have we been out?  _

            She hoarsely whispered his name but he made no sign of waking up and continued to lie like a dead weight on top of her.  If she moved him, Joker and his goons would probably open fire; they'd be killed.  She had best wait until a better time to strike.

            "Turn the jolly green giant over," the twisted clown chortled, "I want to be certain they're not dead yet."

            One of his henchmen pushed the unconscious Martian onto his back and in that instant the Amazonian princess sprang up to attack.  And, as if timed, her cavalry arrived.  There was no battle; it was over before it truly began.  Upon realizing they would face the likes of Superman, Green Lantern, Flash, and Batman as well as Wonder Woman, the hired thugs gave up.  Joker vanished, of course; he and Harley Quinn running off at the first sign of Wonder Woman going to fight back.  

            When the Los Angeles police arrived, they found the men bound together with an iron beam.

            Things set, preparations complete.  

            Time for coming of destiny upon.

            Now begins…

            Nearly an hour had passed since Joker's bomb had caused his injuries and he had only regained consciousness once during that time but that was all.  He has since dropped off into a fairly deep sleep.  In his quarters, sitting by his side to ease his loneliness in slumber for however much it might help, Diana watched her friend sleep.  He had been injured protecting her; she felt he was owed a vigil after that.  He was owed more but she had no idea how to go about it.  Would that she could.

            For hours she sat by his side while he slept and nearly fell off her chair when she dozed off that first time.  She knew he was almost completely healed from when she changed his bandages last but he had yet to wake up.  What would his reaction be when he saw that she had stayed with him?  

            Still, she did stay.

            When she began to doze again, he stirred, mumbling in his native language.  It did not sound like a pleasant dream.  In all the years she'd known him, she had never heard him whimper once and now he was.  To say the least, it was disconcerting.  What was he dreaming about that was so terrible?  He was so strong, it seemed as if nothing could faze him sometimes, like he was devoid of emotion.  She knew better.  J'onn was the warmest, most sensitive man she knew, and right now it sounded like he was having the worst nightmare one could have.  She did not like seeing others suffer, and right now he was suffering badly.  He should be awakened to end this.

            She reached out a hand to shake him but he grabbed her wrist in a vice like grip, sat bolt upright in bed with his crimson eyes flying open and nearly pulled her off the chair.  He looked scared out of his wits.

            "J'onn?" she tried not to wince at the pressure of his grip, "J'onn, are you—ow—what's wrong?"

            After a moment, where he blinked to pull himself to full waking, he released her wrist with a whispered, "I'm sorry.  Did I hurt you?"

            Diana rubbed her wrist gingerly, "No.  Are you alright?"  He nodded, "Mm… you have nightmares often, don't you?"  Complete silence and an averted gaze was her only answer, "It might help if you talked about it."

            He slowly shook his head, "I can't… I'm sorry," he looked at her for a moment, "You wouldn't want to know."

            "Hmm… That may be but… hn," she began while standing, "if you ever want to, I'm here… Good night, J'onn."

            She managed to shock him when she leaned over and gave him a light hug.  He was still staring after her when she left his quarters.

            It is time…

End Ch. 1

More will come, whether wanted or not.  Please be magnanimous and review, I only plead that you show kindness and refrain from burning this work to the ground.  Thank you.

Miss Lizz ^_^


	2. none

Praeter

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R for life, death, hidden love, unbridled hate, and mass destruction.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.  Leave thine lawyers at bay.

Ch. 2: Flow

A Dirge 

Rough wind, that moanest loud

            Grief too sad for song;

Wild wind, when sullen cloud

            Knells all the night long:

Sad storm, whose tears are vain,

            Bare woods, whose branches strain,

Deep cover and dreary main—

            Wail, for the world's wrong!

                                    -- Percy Bysshe Shelley

            Something in the wind…  destruction unto itself…

            Skirting like an immaterial shadow throughout the night drenched rooftops and alleyways of Gotham City, Batman growled in the back of his throat.  All his information said that Joker had yet to return to town and that could only mean trouble in the long run for everyone.  They should have hauled him in when they had the chance instead of wasting time with his henchmen when the cowards gave up without a fight.  Something was going to happen, he could feel it but he didn't know when and he wasn't sure if Joker would even have anything to do with it.

            It was going to drive him insane.

            Relative quiet was a rare thing for the League and this session lasted no longer than any other.  When it did end, it ended with a roar in explosions and screams.  Every past villain in the book was checked but none fit; it seemed a new player had entered the game but none knew who it was.  The area was completely devoid of clues or anything else once the explosion went off and annihilated everything within a one-mile radius.  

            Within hours of the first explosions, another went off on the other side of the planet in Hong Kong and everything within three miles was altogether wholly incinerated.  Mexico City, Berlin, and Atlanta followed minutes later.

            The League was stretched to their limit assisting the emergency workers in finding however many survivors there may be.  There were depressingly little.  

            Inside the first target, Philadelphia, Batman and Martian Manhunter tried to piece together the paltry amount of clues as to who could have done something like this.  Though at present they were more concerned with survivors than perpetrators, as they picked through rubble in different areas of the city and gazed out over the newly flattened landscape.  They did manage to pick up some clues: the explosion had not been heard as much as felt and appeared as an expanding light bubble that obliterated whatever it encompassed.  The magnitude of what was to be faced was overpowering in its capacity for destruction.  It was unbelievable that such a thing could occur and leave nothing behind.

            Lifting a slab of concrete and metal from the ground to free a handful of trapped people to allow the firefighters, police, and paramedics' access to the civilians in need of help, J'onn was just setting the slab down when someone began yelling for him through the telepathic channel he shared with the entire League.  It sounded like Batman but he wasn't prone to the panic that subtly laced this message, colouring it in vibrant oranges.  

            **_Batman_**_?_

_            J'onn, get over here.  NOW!_  The dark knight's voice hissed over the connection.  Something very wrong must be happening for him to sound so urgent.  _Hospital.  It's an emergency._

            The Martian was there in less than a minute.  The tone of the human's voice caused him to believe something was either going to happen or it already had and drove him to a faster pace.  From the surrounding buzz of thoughts, Batman's stood out like a beacon for its order amid so much apparent chaos, and from all the thoughts he found out the basics of what was happening.  It made his stomach turn and his crimson eyes widen fractionally.  There in the middle of the good-sized crowd was a small infant atop what could only be another device like the one that caused this disaster.  What type of sick goading was this?

            "I needed a second set of eyes to see if this thing is rigged for weight disturbances," the ever-grim human said even before J'onn landed.  "If it is and I moved the infant… this city would have gained a new crater.  That couldn't be allowed to happen again."

            J'onn nodded and looked closer at the device, past the dull-gray outer covering that gave it a boxy appearance and discovered that Batman's fears were about to come true.  Would the explosion be instantaneous?  Or would there be a slight delay?  Whatever they did, it would have to be done quickly for the device was to go off in three minutes regardless.

            His mind worked furiously, he might be able to fly the bomb far enough above the city for it to do little damage.  Something must be done.

            "…" There was only one thing to be done. "…Take the infant and try to clear the area as best you can… Pray this works…"

            "And if it doesn't?" A hand clapped onto his shoulder, "I don't think I like this plan of yours."

            Looking down at the dark knight, J'onn's face was completely neutral, "Then perhaps the city will be spared another onslaught… Take the infant."

            Then he was flying, pushing himself faster than he ever had before, the device held firmly against his chest.  He reached the upper atmosphere in seconds.  Detonation occurred just as he left the ionosphere and was in the process of throwing it towards the sun.  The great orb of light crashed into him, burning into his skin, shredding his clothing, causing him to lose consciousness, and plummet earthward at a frightening pace.  He hit the ground like a comet not far from where he took off.  

            For long moments, there was no movement from the small crater formed by his landing and all was still. 

End ch. 1

Is it any good so far?  I know J'onn's seems to be getting beat up a lot but that will change.  There will be more of the League in the next chapter if you want it (though it will probably be posted even if you don't).  Please review but keep it polite. 

Thank you,

Miss Lizz


	3. death comes callin'

Praeter

Ch. 3

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R for dreams, violence, life, and death.

Disclaimer:  I do not now nor will I own the JLA.  Not yet anyway.  Keep your lawyers at bay.

Once by the Pacific 

The shattered water made a misty din,

Great waves looked over others coming in,

And thought of doing something to the shore

That water never did to land before.

The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,

Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.

You could not tell, and yet it looked as if

The shore was lucky by being backed by cliff,

The cliff in being backed by continent;

It looked as if a night of dark intent

Was coming, and not only a night, an age.

Someone had better be prepared for rage.

There would be more than ocean-water broken

Before God's last Put out the Light was spoken.

                                            --Robert Frost

            Along the outer rim of the building-choked ground zeroes of Mexico City and Hong Kong, more devices like what caused such devastation were found that had yet to detonate.  All were disposed of quickly.  None could be studied beforehand except quick glances.  That these glances could see through most materials really meant very little.  

            Who could be doing this?  There was nothing and no one that could plan something of this scale that they had faced before.  The League was on full alert, constantly at guard for whatever caused the obliteration of so much and so many.  For there was no telling when or where the next strike could occur.  How could they expect anything when all that had been handed them was the unexpected?  It chafed them mightily to think they were almost completely powerless against such force as this.

            The detailed illustrations prepared by Green Lantern, coupled with the information gleaned from the x-rays of Superman and Martian Manhunter found a paradox.  Containing the same amount of power as an M-80 firecracker, there was no way the boxy little devices could cause as much damage as they did; it was simply impossible.

            Something was missing, some piece of the puzzle that had yet to be unearthed.  An enormous amount of energy was being tapped, but how?  Was the firecracker in a box merely the spark to an inferno or something else entirely?  

            Almost had one… pity… p'rhaps next time.  Time.  Time time time time time…  how delicious.

            All the time in the realms… what fun this is… not long now… no one can stop… 

            … Souls… mine…

            _What was that?_  J'onn opened his eyes where he'd been resting in front of the computer after looking for an hour on an idea he had.  Had he heard that right?  Was that laughter?  It had sounded like…

            He shouldn't be resting; there were things that needed to be done, information that needed to be checked.  If this theory of his had any grounds, he would have to tell the others.  Right now, no one knew what he had seen in that light.  Even he barely knew what he saw.  There was a figure… he had seen that figure before somewhere.  It had a scythe, long black robes, and… it was laughing.  All at once it struck him.  

            Death.

            Or at least a version of Death was what he saw when that light burst against his chest.  Could it really be Death though?  The one he knew would never do anything like what was happening down on Earth.  Could it be an imposter then?  No, in that version of Death, there was another name…

            The reaper.

            _It's_ _rather melodramatic, isn't it?_  He couldn't stop the thought when it entered his head; he was so exhausted he actually found it funny.  There had been no sleep for him since this tragedy began and it was going on three days, even he was worn down to the point where he could hardly think straight.  Not a good thing for a telepath who kept everyone in contact with each other.  Every minute had been spent planet side helping the rescue teams in the seemingly endless task of searching for survivors and bodies.  

            When he was first been picked to take a rest break, he had resisted and managed to keep working for another day.  The next time was an order by Diana, who even now slept in her quarters.  As his eyes drooped close he smiled, if it had been anyone else but her, he would undoubtedly still be down in one of the cities.

            Lifting a pile of rubble that covered valuable medical supplies inside what was once a Moscow infirmary, Superman spied movement from under some chunks of concrete and gingerly lifted the debris to find a young woman who looked to be a nurse.  She was badly injured but it didn't look life threatening, thank God.  Were there more in here?  He thought as he scanned the mound.

            Yes, there were at least a dozen more that lived.  He would have to hurry.

            A little over half a mile from where Superman freed trapped people, Plastic Man kept numerous children and more than a few adults from sinking into panic or shock with his antics.  It was a tough crowd, he thought.

            In Hong Kong, it was Batman, Green Lantern, Hawkman, and other heroes who helped the emergency workers.  All over the world, the heroes worked along side firefighters, police, paramedics, and volunteers in the effort to save as many people as humanly possible.

            They couldn't help but wonder though: what was next?  Would all their work come to naught?

            He had just slipped into sleep when his eyes snapped open suddenly.  He was no longer alone in the room, other people—beings—were with him.  Knowing who they were, he also knew he must be dreaming and it didn't faze him that he now wore mail and sported a broadsword.  In truth, he hardly noticed his change in dress.

            "You wish to ask something of me?" _Do I bow before them?  They are gods after all._

            "There is no need to bow, J'onn J'onnz.  My sister seeks your aid," the thin, pale, black-haired man spoke quietly and gestured to a similarly dressed young woman beside him who smiled.

            "Hello.  J'onn, you know who I am, don't you?" All he can do is nod silently, "Good, then you know what I do."  She looked down at the ground for a moment.  "Were you aware that you're the one living being in this realm who has seen this reaper fellow and survived?" Death went on, not waiting for his answer, "It's astounding you did, actually.  I don't believe anyone else could have.  But anyway, I need to know if you can do something for me.  I'm asking you, and you alone, to journey here," she pointed down and he found they were hovering over the tops of an ancient forest, dark and turquoise, with a silvery castle off in the far distance, "and defeat the Reaper.  Can you do this?"

            The Martian stared out over the vast ocean of forest and considered her request.  "Why me?  There are far better heroes for the job than I.  Why alone?  How am I to get here?" _Wherever here is._ "And how do I defeat the Reaper?"

            She smiled, "You're a warrior, you're nearly the strongest person on Earth; again you've seen this thing and lived.  And since you're wondering why you were chosen over any of your companions it's because of some of your more unique abilities," she paused.  "And out of your friends, you're the least likely one I would meet again.  I'd never want anyone to kill themselves and as we're not allowed to take life…" She let the sentence hang, "Defeating is up to you but Morpheus will show you how to get here… This guy is bad news, he's abusing his power in taking souls and not letting them go on, and he's giving Death a bad name.  I hope you nail this guy.  Good luck."

            With that, J'onn was left alone back in the Watchtower with a silent Dream.  Then they were traveling but not moving over sea and land and the city of London until they were outside a small old shop.

            "This is where you are to go.  The old woman is expecting you to come and she will send you through."

            And then he woke up and for several minutes did not move.  He had a feeling there was to be no returning from this one despite what Death said.  Never to see or speak with any of the others again, he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that suddenly clouded his vision.  No.  There mustn't be any crying, no selfish tears for this, no selfish thoughts.  He had to do this for the good of all.  No goodbyes and no telling the others about this because he had to do this alone, no matter what happened to him.  

            If only he could say goodbye…

End ch. 3

Is it getting any better?  Or should I simply stop?  I know J'onn isn't the most popular character but… he's the greatest to me and he deserves more stories.  He deserves much more.  Maybe that's one of the reasons I love him so much, he's deserving of so many things and like so often he's ignored for the pretty boy in the red cape…

This is becoming a dissertation.  I'll stop now but please, if you'll just review this politely, I would greatly appreciate it.

Thank you,

Miss Lizz 


	4. meeting

Praetor 

Ch. 4

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R for many themes and as many dreams

Disclaimer: Be there a true reason for writing this?  As yet I own nothing at all.

Notes: This is the true grit of the story and partly why I sort of glossed over the action scenes in the first three chapters.  Sooth, those were plot elements but only marginal and I didn't really consider them that great a part of the whole.  

I'm sorry for those who hoped for an action-packed story.  The real essence of this story is mainly an impossible romance (yes, I know.  I'm a girl, I have to add romance to everything ^^).  I beg you for understanding, not condemnation.

The Kraken 

Below the thunders of the upper deep;

Far, far beneath the abysmal sea.

His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep

The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee

About his shadowy sides: above him swell

Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;

And far away into the sickly light,

From many a wondrous grot and secret cell

Unnumbered and enormous polypi

Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.

There hath he lain for ages and will lie

Battering upon huge sea worms in his sleep,

Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;

Then once by man and angels to be seen,

In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

            Far above the troubled planet, on its lone moon, he stood in his darkened room staring down at a yellowing, crinkling envelope.  Should he bother giving it to her?  Would she even care?  Probably not but it was the only way he could say good-bye and that was all he wanted to do.  It was all he should be allowed… whether anyone cared or not.  

            She was still sleeping in her chambers when he quietly let himself in, lightly touching her mind in a sort of farewell gesture.  He wasn't ready to leave yet, though.  There was still the letter he had wanted to give her for years and today he could do so without fear of destroying a friendship when it would end anyway.  Watching her sleep was almost calming to the maelstrom his mind and feelings were currently wallowing in and after several minutes of time he admitted to himself were wasted and should have been used he was nearly ready to leave for good.  

            He listened to her slow, steady heartbeat and even breathing and felt a great swell of poignant sadness deep in his chest.  Hoping she wouldn't awaken, he gently brushed a stray wisp of hair from her face; no longer able to resist the temptation, he also brushed his lips lightly over her cheek.  He'd wanted to kiss her for years.  This was the closest he could ever hope for or ever dare to try.

            This thing should never have been.  It was wrong, unheard of, how dare he ever had felt anything remotely like this.  There was no hope and yet he still had the audacity to dream.    

            "Goodbye, Diana… I love you," it was spoken in a deep, soft whisper and he left.

            J'onn?  Diana struggled up through the veils of sleep and opened her eyes.  There was no one here but she could have sworn she felt his presence and… his lips?  She touched her cheek in puzzlement, why would he kiss her?  Dream, perhaps?  There was no way she could have dreamed something like that, he'd been so sad, like he was never going to see her again.  By the gods, that could not have been a dream.  

            It was then she saw the envelope with her name written on the front in J'onn's neat scrawl and knew of a certain it was no dream.  Oh no… this sort of note could only mean one thing, he wasn't coming back.  

            She grabbed the letter and bolted for the teleporters, hoping she could catch him before he left.  She was not going to let him do whatever he was planning on, the world needed him, the League needed him, and so did she.  With everything that was happening, he had never been needed more, so where did he think he was going?  He wasn't the type to run away from anything.  It wasn't that.  What in Hera's name was he doing?  Why has he not told anyone?  If he had left her a letter, he was not planning on surviving whatever might befall him.

            Diana ran into the teleporter room just in time to watch his body shimmer into nonexistence.  Finding out where he had gone to, she followed him, determined to get an explanation for his actions.  The Amazon saw her friend disappear through the roof of a shop and immediately followed him.  Why had he come to London?

            It was a small, cramped, and dark place that reeked of ancient magick and mildew, it was also empty in the front room.  She could barely hear voices from the back, one deep and melodious.  It was J'onn.  Finally.

            When she burst into the even smaller room, all she saw was an old woman but no sign of the Martian.  The woman, a wizened old creature, looked at her and mumbled something about truth and gestured toward a shimmering, heretofore unnoticed mirror hung in the dusty corner.

            "Be on wi' ye then, girl.  Through the mirror!  Hurry!  Look after the boy err he'll never know."

            Diana had almost no idea what that meant but tentatively plunged through the mirror regardless, determined to find J'onn and quite willing to travel to another realm to do it.  She emerged into a sun-dappled forest and came face to face with a very irritated Martian Manhunter.  He glared down at her and suddenly she felt very small and totally unprepared for what she had not planned out enough to do.  How was she to bring him back?

            Nothing but concern laced his voice, "You should not have come.  Please, go back and help the others, they need you," he paused and looked at her outfit like he had never seen it before.  "You've… changed."

            "Wh—?" She looked down at herself and realized he was right; her usual outfit was replaced with Viking war goddess' suit of armour.  It was the only way she could think to describe it.  She hadn't even noticed… but J'onn had changed too.  Where hers was plates of metal, his outfit was a sleeveless tunic of chain mail that actually hung to mid-thigh, belted with a broad black leather belt, and he was wearing simple cross-gartered breeches.  "So have you."  

            He folded his arms and continued to gaze down at her. "It's… fitting but you should never have followed me."

            "What if you had needed help?"

            He didn't answer he at first, when he did it frightened her, "We all have to die sometime." His voice lowered, "Go home, Diana, please.  The others need you."

            "We need you too.  I'm not going back without you."  She suddenly became angry, "J'onn, why the hell didn't you tell anyone where you were going?"

            "I was told to go alone," he didn't let her ask the next question that formed in her mind, doubtless he already knew it, "by Death and Dream of the Endless.  The one behind all the destruction is here and I've been charged with stopping it. I didn't want to see any of the others, or you, die; the world needs you all.  There are people who need you."

            "What about you?"

            He stared at her, through her, with his sad, soul-searching eyes for a heartrending amount of time.  His expression was largely unreadable, "What about me?"  J'onn launched himself into the air.  

            _What about me_, those words chilled her to the bone; he truly did not think he would survive this and he cared not!  

            She took off after him, racing over the treetops to catch up, barely paying attention to her surroundings.  If the situation were different, she might have stopped and stared in complete wonder at the landscape around her of lavender sky, turquoise forest, and medieval castles.  As it was, all her attention was focused on J'onn and getting him to stop for even a moment since it was unlikely she could catch him.

            "J'ONN!" _How can that idiot think no one needs him?_  "J'ONN, STOP!!"

            _Go back, Diana.  You can't help me, no one can.  No one should.  And I **know** no one needs me._

            Wanna bet? 

            He sighed and stopped to face her.  She flew right up into his face and barely kept her voice from reaching a scream.

            "How can you think that, you stubborn fool!?  Believe it or not, there _are_ people who need you!  And we need you living!"  She pounded a fist on his chest once before he caught her wrist.

            "Diana, stop."  His voice never rose from its deep quietness, "I _have_ to do this.  This creature has already killed countless millions; I won't let him kill anymore.  If given the same chance, you would do the same as I but I must go alone.  There's nothing you can do that will stop me, so just go back and help the others with the survivors.  Go home," he urged, "I have no choice but to do this alone—"

            She slapped him with her free hand, "No you don't!  I'm coming with you whether you like it or not so stop fighting me!"  She felt like hitting him again when she paused for whatever he might say to that.

            He let go of her wrist however, "Trying to fight you would be like trying to extinguish the sun."  He said it very quietly and she suddenly felt ashamed for slapping him.  "Just don't interfere."

            So he wasn't pushing her leaving, it was apparently the only concession he was going to make but she was hardly considering it a victory.  "I'll interfere if I feel the need to stop you from committing suicide," _I need you too much to see you dead._

            J'onn was merely shaking his head, slowly drawing away from her, "No.  You won't."

            That stubborn idiot!  She growled, forgetting her earlier shame and wondered strongly if she could get away with hitting him again.

End Ch 4

Please, if you review this disaster of a story, do so politely with a modicum of regard for my feelings (by the gods that was selfish…).  After this, I'm honestly not sure if anyone will want other chapters.  If you do, the next several chapters will be more intense and in-depth of several of the things that have gone before.

I'm sorry.

Miss Lizz  


	5. battle

Praeter

Ch. 5

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R for everything from the last chapters 

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

No notes this time.

The Splendor Falls 

The splendor falls on castle walls

                        And snowy summits old in story;

That long light shakes across the lakes,

                        And the wild cataract leaps in glory.

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,

Blow, bugle, answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

            O, hark, O, hear! how thin and clear,

                        And thinner, clearer, farther going!

            O, sweet and far from cliff and scar

                        The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!

Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying,

Blow, bugle, answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

            O lover, they die in yon rich sky,

                        They faint on hill or field or river;

            Our echoes roll from soul to soul, 

                        And grow for ever and for ever.

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,

And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

                                                            --Alfred, Lord Tennyson

            They found him.  Her.  It.  Gender was impossible to determine in the flowing blackness but it wasn't overly important to know.  This thing had to be stopped but neither of them realized that it would be so unbelievably enormous.  When they came upon it, everything seemed to condense and darken and all around things got colder.  It did not seem pleased to gain unexpected visitors, for it roared, opening its maw an unimaginable width and launching itself toward them, scythe upraised and black robes billowing to blot out the sky.

_          I'll take you too!_  Its voice was the hoarse, frightening sound of burning paper and windblown leaves on a wet winter's day, whispering towards the two heroes along the leaden breeze that picked up without warning, rolling in black, pendulous, and writhing clouds that bellowed thunder and screamed lightning. It was near impossible to tell from whence it ended and the atmosphere began.  If indeed, there were edges.

            J'onn drew his broadsword, thankful for it now since it appeared his vision had little effect on this creature, and, after a quick 'stay here' to Diana, hurtled at the approaching harbinger of death like a comet all the while hammering at its mind with psychic blasts as powerful as he could create.  He normally loathed doing it but this time there was no other way.  From behind him he heard Diana unsheathe her own sword and knew she was about to come in after him.  Then he heard her scream his name and the clash of metal and dared a glance behind him.  She was being attacked by… something else, more than one somethings that looked for all the worlds to be goblins or demons that had descended on her from everywhere.

            And he couldn't help her.  Damn this all!

            He continues the mental assault while jarring blows from his blade glanced off the Reaper with seemingly little effect.  It was all he could do to dodge the wide swipes of its scythe.  For something so large, it was amazingly fast and agile and he wasn't able to dodge all the blows aimed his way.  What few met his flesh caused an agony he never thought possible to be, but he could not afford to stop this brawl, the world and possibly beyond depended on its outcome.  He had no choice.

            That scythe was deadly, and much sharper than it appeared, easily carving through the mail tunic covering his chest and tearing into the skin deeply to cause an arc of deep red blood to follow the blades sweep.  Did this creature have any weakness?  How was he to defeat something he could barely get to?  His psychic blasts were not doing enough damage and if he spared any more focus to the attacks, he would end up gutted before anything came of it.  His sword was next to useless against this creature, yet even if it was not how much could he truly do with it?  He had no skill or knowledge of swordplay.  But he could not give up.

            The battle raged for hours it felt, though at most only an hour and a half elapsed since that first suicidal lunge.  Now blood the colour of dark wine covered his body from few but deep and grievous injuries and he was physically exhausted to the point where all he could do was dodge the majority of the swipes from the inexhaustible Reaper's scythe.  But majorities did not mean all, for he was repeatedly hit as more and more of his blood spilled forth.  His strength reserves were near exhausted, his physical and mental attacks taking their toll along with the terrible blood loss.

            From somewhere behind and below his right he heard Diana scream, sounding like a gunshot in the dark.  That had been no scream of war or victory; it had been a scream of pain and fear.  He gritted his teeth, hating himself for not being able to look back and help her.  Damn it, he couldn't help her!  It tore at him that nothing could be done, but this Reaper being must be stopped.  Now, before all was lost.  

            He didn't even dare to glance back, certain that if he did, he would stop fighting the creature before and fight those attacking Diana.  

            J'onn growled, this confrontation had gone on long enough, too long.  It had to end.  Too much time had been spent already and the more time was lost, the more powerful this creature would ultimately become.  He stilled, focusing all the strength he still possessed to one last major blow with his mind in a last ditch hope that it would stagger it enough so he could end this.  The blast left him weak and a little dizzy but…

            It worked.

            The Reaper was staggered greatly, enough for the manhunter to hurl himself in one last desperate dive toward a faintly glowing, amorphous, white amulet-blob where its neck vertebrae became enshrouded in black.  Plunging his sword to the hilt into this structure, its surface shattered.  

            Subconsciously, J'onn must have known it to be the Reaper's power well; why else would he have gone so unerringly for it?  Perhaps it was a part of his dream he did not remember.  He did not know, all he knew was that it succeeded where everything else he had tried failed.  

            Millions upon millions of souls taken by force from their paths fled the death-thing in an enormous wave of power.  It arched back and roared wordlessly as the power exploded out of its body, causing it to revert, to shrink, to dissolve back to what it was meant to be.  It did not go calmly.

End ch 5

The battle's not over yet.  Is anyone interested in seeing how this thing plays out?  Or what J'onn might have meant with those three little words he whispered last chapter?  

And for those who want to know, this is about the only battle action there is in this story.  Sorry.  There'll be more drama and romance next chapters though if that makes it any better.

Please send lots of reviews, thank you,

Miss Lizz


	6. after

Praeter

Ch. 6: Ending

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R for everything from previous chapters

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine.

Sonnet 71 

No longer mourn for me when I am dead

Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell

Give warning to the world that I am fled

From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell.

Nay, if you read this line, remember not 

The hand that writ it, for I love you so

That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot 

If think on me then should make you woe.

O if, I say, you look upon this verse

When I perhaps compounded am with clay,

Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,

But let you love even with my life decay,

            Lest the wise world should look into your moan

            And mock you with me after I am gone.

                                                - William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

            When the demons that plagued her vanished as quickly as they came, Diana was left temporarily too surprised to notice much of anything.  She was caught so off guard, she froze in utter amazement that the onslaught stopped and so suddenly she literally reeled.  For a moment, nothing broke through her bewilderment until the thunderous roaring made itself known like a floodtide.  Turning, all that met her eyes was a screaming comet of black crashing earthward.  Before her stunned gaze, the opened-mouth skull reared back, bony arms driving what looked like a pocketknife in its grip sharply downward to the ground.  

            The Reaper and its scream of rage dissolved almost before the sword struck whatever its target was.  It was gone.  It was over.  She felt like laughing, a short, uneasy laugh tinged with weariness and even a bit of hysteria.  

            But then a dreadful realization struck her that a component was missing, a very important part of this all, of her, was missing.

            _J'onn?_

            He was nowhere to be seen.  A terrible thought assailed her.  That thing had cleaved a sword downward… Oh gods… Where was J'onn?  Was he…? 

            A headlong dive brought the Amazon to the area from whence the Reaper vanished, her head and heart pounding in a sudden feeling of dread and overwhelming fear.  She broke through the canopy of trees and found the broken, torn place where the final battle ended.  It was on the ground she skidded to a halt and stared in horror at the sight before her.

            _Great Hera._

She found J'onn.  She almost wished she had not.  He defeated the Reaper, saved untold millions and had died in the process.  Why did he have to die?  Why!?  

            Diana stumbled over to his body and stared down at him with a hollow feeling welling up in her chest and tears welling up in her eyes.  Even though she knew death in battle was more often than not the fate of heroes, it never seemed fair.  As she fell to her knees beside him, it didn't then at all.

            The claymore she had seen the Reaper cleave downward was buried to the hilt in the right side of her greatest friend's ribcage.  There was so much blood!  She choked on a sob, trying to still the violent heaves that threatened to make her lose the contents of her stomach.  Never in her life had she seen so much blood.  With trembling hands, Diana hesitantly touched his cheeks, ignoring the blood running from his mouth, finally giving in to the sobs as she cradled his head in her arms and bent down to rest her forehead on his.  

            He can't be dead.  He can't be.  He was the one most full of life, the one who won this battle.  _J'onn, don't die on me!  Don't leave me, please!  You can't be dead!_

            Any minute she was going to wake up in her bed and find this had all been some terrible nightmare.

            … No.  This was real.  With greater sobs, she finally admitted it to herself.

            Where was his mail tunic?  He was stripped bare from the waist up, baring to her eyes all his gruesome injuries.  What had happened to his tunic?  What if he got cold?  She hated the sight of that sword-hilt jutting out of his chest.  

            And the blood… Gods, he was bleeding so much, it was like a red flood from his body.  She loved him too much to calmly see him now, and the blood was making her queasy and the dry heaves threatened to become worse.  In her memory, she had never seen him injured so badly, it terrified her.  The blood terrified her.  It was still pumping from his—

            _Wait, he's still bleeding?  He's still bleeding!  Thank the gods.  _

_            He's alive!_

            Fresh tears spilled but this time in sheer elation that he lived.  He was only unconscious.  But that sword… if it wasn't removed, it would surely kill him.

            Slowly, from somewhere overhead, she heard the sound of gently beating wings growing closer and knew immediately who it was.  Her heart sank like a stone.  

            "You came for him?"  It was a quiet question of defeat but her insides felt like a spear had been slammed through her.  Was he to die after all?  She looked at the young woman smiling down at her.

            "No.  I came to thank him and to send the souls to the place where they belong… and to give you this.  You dropped it," a yellowed envelope was placed in her hands.  She stared at it for a moment like she had never seen it before looking again at Death.  "He's not going to die this time.  There's a cottage conveniently around the way you can lay him in and rest for a while.  I'm afraid I can't stay though.  Tell him 'thank you' for me?"

            She could only nod dumbly; the young woman smiled her gratitude and was gone, leaving Diana alone in a strange forest on another realm of existence with a badly bleeding J'onn.  Tucking the letter into her cuirass, she gazed down at J'onn in a wincing determination.  

            The claymore had to be removed.  She would not be able to move him with it impaling his body to the grassy earth.  It was almost glad she was that he was unconscious for this; maybe he would be unaware of the pain.  With a clenched jaw and a deep breath, Diana stood and braced her feet apart to grip the hilt and ease it as quickly as she dared out.  

            J'onn did not remain lifeless for long much to her dismay.  His hands balled up into tight fists, his lips pulled back over his teeth in a grimace of agony that caused her to squeeze eyes shut against new tears and continue her efforts.  He was in such agony and this time she was the cause of it.  All she could do was pull the sword free.

            Throwing it away, heedless of where it fell, she dropped down to her knees once again, tearing her cloak from her shoulders and ripping it into shreds.  The flow of blood that had increased to frightening measure must be stopped or he'll die no matter what Death said.  A piece of her cloak wadded up was pressed against the gaping hole left from the blade in an attempt to staunch the flow but it was more difficult now that he was awake and moving.

            He coughed up blood, a wet hacking sound that tore at her, and looked at her with pain fogged eyes just slightly lighter in colour than his blood.  "Thank you."

            She was amazed he could speak at all, he was so weak now that his voice was barely audible.  But the stubborn Martian sat up, a low moan issuing forth from deep within.  She wanted nothing more than to push him back down but she knew the sword had gone all the way through, which meant another extensive wound on his back that must be seen to.

            She still glared at him for moving so abruptly.

            He was remarkably stoic under so much pain radiating through his body.  She was very astounded by how he was holding up.  Wrapping the makeshift bandages around his chest, she helped him stand, noting how he gritted his teeth.  How far was that cottage from here?  She wasn't sure how well or how far he could travel.

            "Far enough."

            She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, pursing her lips in disfavour that he would use his telepathy when he should be saving as much strength as he could.  His reassuring smile failed horribly as it turned into a grimace of pain.

            Diana never left his side, continuing to lend her support as she led him in the direction Death indicated, hoping the cottage was close.  The stone path they traveled led around a bend and there was indeed a small stone cottage that looked to have been abandoned for years if not centuries.  Neither of them felt inclined to stop and look at the place long, J'onn was losing consciousness and Diana wanted somewhere they could both lay down and rest.

            Hauling the rapidly blacking-out Martian inside, she sat him on the first upright piece of furniture they came to, that it appeared to be a bed led her to hope fortune was changing for the better.  When he lost consciousness completely, he would have toppled off the bed had she not gently moved his body into a prone position.

            The dim light filtering through the windows and open doorway was just enough for her to clearly see his wounds and find out how extensive they were.  Terrifying to look at, the majority of the gashes were fairly minor, not being mortally deep and all the blows were clean much to her relief.  None were jagged though the sword wound worried her the most.  He needed a real doctor to look at him, not her.

            With nothing in the cottage itself clean enough for her to ever consider using as bandages, Diana ripped   the rest of her cloak into strips without a second thought.  She needed to bind the rest of his wounds and tend         her own before anything else could happen to them.

            She might have asked herself what else _could_ possibly happen to them but if past experiences had taught her anything it was that something unbelievably horrible would occur is she so much as thought that.  They really didn't need anything like that happening right now.

End ch. 6

Next up is the letter that J'onn thought was so important.  Are you interested?  Did you like this chapter in what is so far my longest story to date, chapter-wise?

Please send reviews.  Thank you.    


	7. letter

Praetor 

Chapter 7

Rating: R for ideas not everyone will agree with

Disclaimer: I wish

****

Warning: The following chapter contains elements some people may not agree with or even like. I don't regret writing it as nothing like this has been written before to my knowledge. If you are truly against this sort of thing, I would recommend discontinuing to read this story in the future as the villain has already been defeated and the rest of the tale is more or less romance, but whatever you do please don't send flames that are too harsh. 

True love's the gift which God has given

To man alone beneath the heaven: 

It is not fantasy's hot fire,

Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly;

It liveth not in fierce desire,

With dead desire it doth not die;

It is the secret sympathy

The silver link, the silken tie,

Which heart to heart and mind to mind

In body and in soul can bind.

― Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832)

For an hour or more, she sat on the edge of the small bed and watched him slip from pain-induced unconsciousness to a deep sleep. She breathed a sigh of relief at this. He was healing; he would be all right. Thank Hera.

He looked so peaceful when he slept, the lines of worry smoothing out, his strong features relaxing and giving him a much younger appearance. It was a rare event when she saw him sleep, even rarer that she would study him as she was now without feeling her cheeks heat up or worrying that he would notice. J'onn was a handsome man; she wouldn't be a woman if she denied it and since he was very handsome and she was a woman, she didn't. It didn't hurt that he was asleep and would never know she thought this.

Diana stroked his brow and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, "May your sleep be free of trouble this one time at least," she whispered before straightening and moving off to upright a chair near the window with evening light filtering through the surrounding trees. Evening? So much time had passed already? 

It was getting darker by the minute and she really did not want to sit in this place in the dark. It gave her the creeps, she who rarely felt so. She wanted a light of some kind but could she safely build a fire in that old hearth without J'onn waking up? He feared flame after all, but she had no other source for light and he probably would not be waking up anytime tonight. It should be fine where he was concerned.

The hearth itself was a different matter entirely. It was a crumbling old structure but when she stuck her head in and looked up, she could see all the way to the top without any visible blockage. She just needed wood now. Seeing how she was in a forest that would prove no problem.

Scavenging the forest floor for the next half-hour brought a decent pile of dead wood, more than enough to last the night. The fire was easy enough to start by knocking two bit of rock together to catch on some dry brush and eventually she had a goodly blaze going. It quickly warmed the stone cottage and lit the entire room.

It was much later that night, when the moon was high in the star covered sky and she was near dozing that she suddenly remembered the letter that had been given her. Pulling the now much-crumpled envelope from her vest, she looked at it for a long while. Should she read it? Why did he give it to her when he thought he would not make it back? He must have meant for her to read it, why else give it? What did he want to say but could only say it in a letter?

Curiosity getting the better of her, she took a deep breath and pulled out what must have been five or six pages of variously aged paper. Some of the pages were written years ago, others so new they could have been written yesterday. 

Holding the paper to the firelight, Diana began to read.

__

Diana, if you are reading this, I can only assume that I am dead, or worse. I wish with all my being that I had the courage to tell you myself. If only I did. But I was afraid this would destroy our friendship, it means more to me than anything. It would have, there's no doubt in my mind to that. These feelings have been eating away at me for years and now I can only tell you through this damn letter what should have been said in a face meeting. You may not even read this, you probably won't care either way, but it needs to be said…

Does he really believe I don't care about him and what he has to say? What could he possibly say that could destroy our friendship?

__

I have to tell you this before it drives me insane. I have to tell you that I love you, that I love you to the depths of my soul, to the height of the farthest stars, with all the breath and tears and smiles of my life. I'm sorry. 

He loves me? Oh, great Hera… I never would have seen this coming. He loves me… and he's sorry for it?

__

That first year we met, I believe that was when I began falling in love with you. You were so kind to me, the first to ever show unconditional kindness in any form to one as grossly different as I am and I loved you for that. It was the first thing I noticed about you, the first thing I fell in love with and it was never supposed to evolve into anything else but it did. It evolved very quickly. That kindness was what initially drew me to you but it was your intelligence, your strength, your dignity, your pureness of heart, and your goodness that made me stay and cemented the growing feelings I was developing for you.

Oh gods, I never noticed this before, I never thought he could― how could I have been so blind? I wish I had known you thought this, J'onn. You would have been surprised by my reactions on the matter.

You must be the only one who noticed me for something other than my body… I wish I'd known…

__

You bewitched me and I dared not tell you. How could I? Our friendship means more to me than life itself and destroying that bond is the last thing I would ever want to do. I suppose that, now, it is the last thing I've done since you now know everything and it's safe to say our friendship is over. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to do this to you. I never wanted to so thoroughly disgust you. Please forgive me. You deserve someone better, someone you can love, someone with humanity. There's so much more you should receive from whoever is blessed enough to be loved by you. That person could never have been me. It should never be someone like me. You deserve to be loved someone more human, someone who will not disgust you. You're a beautiful woman with a stunning soul and I'm so sorry about this letter. Forgive me, Diana.

The letter ended that way. It had been nearly two pages long and had left her confused and with a slight aching in her chest. How can anyone be sorry for falling in love with another person? Did he really think himself so terrible?

She flipped to the next letter, hoping it would contain more clues about this sudden declaration and why he could ever be sorry about love. Why didn't he tell her, because he was sorry? Because he was afraid she would be so horrified that she would end their friendship? Surely he knew her better than that.

Diana had to blink back tears to read the next page that turned out to be a last Will and testament. It wrought more tears because now she was sure he never meant to return alive. He bequeathed all his worldly possessions to the League and gave instructions on how to dispose of whatever remains might be left. He'd planned on dying.

It was the last page that surprised her the most though. She read it twice to make certain she had not misunderstood it. It frightened her more than anything she had ever read before in her life. This was a very recent letter too meaning they were recent thoughts. But how recent? It was terrifying. 

It was a suicide letter. He'd planned on committing suicide.

This is the end of this chapter. There won't be any updates for a while because I need to see what people think of this. If no one likes it, that's fine and I'll just leave the story at six chapters, but if, on the rare chance, someone does enjoy this, there will be more chapters. I'm not really expecting anyone to like an idea that's so different from what is 'normal' and will not expect to receive anything good about this chapter. Oh, well.

It was meant to be emotionally laden with the letter and personally, I wept as I wrote it but I doubt anyone else will so much as water up. That's okay, I wouldn't expect it but I would love to get reviews even if they are going to be scathing. Send them anyway, please. 


	8. Could I love him?

Praetor 

Chapter 8

Rating: not R per se but as it is a controversial pairing, it will remain so

Disclaimer: The characters of J'onn J'onnz and Diana are properties of their creators and DC Comics.

Thank you so much for the reviews of the last chapter, I hope this latest one lives up to whatever you were expecting.

Against Love 

Hence, Cupid! with your cheating toys,

Your real griefs, and painted joys,

Your pleasure which itself destroys.

Lovers, like men in fevers, burn and rave

And only what will injure them do crave.

Men's weakness makes Love so severe

They give him power by their fear

And make the shackles which they wear.

Who to another does his heart submit

Makes his own idol, and then worships it.

Him whose heart is all his own

Peace and liberty does crown;

He apprehends no killing frown,

He feels no raptures which are joys diseased,

And is not much transported, but still pleased.

                             ― Katherine Philips (1631-1664)

          Sleep did not come to Diana that night, her waking spent watching her friend and mulling over what had been discovered this strange journey.  There was no helping the wish that she had known these things sooner, would that she had, it might not have driven him to the brink of death.  He might have been more open to asking for help, to asking someone to accompany him.  

          And she thought of the letters, how much disbelief she felt then and still did upon reading, disbelief that it really happened, that he truly loved her.  She could not believe it; it was almost beyond her comprehension that someone as… as singularly distinctive as J'onn could have fallen in love with her.

          _He loves me…_

          Why did he never tell her?  Because it would destroy their friendship?  He should have known it would never have destroyed their friendship, there was no force in the universe that could.  Their friendship ran deeper than that and would not be easily destroyed.  

          But he loves her, a thing that ran even deeper than friendship, was greater than friendship, but her mind was having trouble grasping the concept that the stoic, silent Martian had fallen in love with her.  It came so out of nowhere, she never suspected, she never noticed that he would feel this way.  He had always treated her with the utmost respect and kindness; he was the best― no, the greatest― friend she could ever hope to have and somehow he had fallen in love with her.  

          But could she love him?  Could she cast aside her fear of the unknown and love him?

          Quite possibly… yes.  She could fairly easily picture herself falling in love with the handsome Martian and being very happy with him.  He was everything she could ever want in a man, what any woman would want in a man, kind, compassionate, caring, he actually listened to her when they talked, and he never treated her like he didn't think she could do the job because she was a woman as nearly everyone else― even Clark― had at some point in time.  She cared for him greatly and respected him as much as he respected her.  As her mind wandered over this, she realized the seeds were already there for something deeper but had never recognized it before.

          They were able to talk for hours on end about nearly everything without either resorting to teasing and, unlike every other man she had talked with, he never lapsed into flirtation and he never made her feel uncomfortable.  She could talk with J'onn in a way she never can with the others.  Being in love would not be that great a step for either of them all things considered.

          Could she take that blind leap of faith though?

          There was no one else in her life despite what the world seemed to think about her and Superman.  Clark was married for Hera's sake, not to mention completely and totally devoted to Lois and he had become something like a brother to her over the years.  There could never be anything between the two of them, it was as outrageous as the notion some had about Batman and her.  He was too dark and serious all the time and too grimly focused on his work to even be a candidate.  Besides that, he may or may not have something brewing with Catwoman, or Talia, or someone she had no idea about or even more than one of them; not something one looks for in a love interest.  Arthur was married.  Wally and Kyle were much too young for her.

          And J'onn was just… J'onn.  Silent, solitary, always there for her when she needed him, grief stricken, always alone in the world, but he didn't have to be.  He was lonely but didn't have to remain so.  The League was there for him.  _She_ was there for him.  Always.

Diana did not doubt what he wrote, she never doubted what he said and knew he could not joke about something like love.  But could she love him?  He was her friend like the rest of the League but she never thought of him as a brother.  Often, she thought of him as something more, he was someone she could talk too, someone who could make her laugh when she needed it, listened to her when she ranted, and comforted her when she felt downhearted.           Could she think of him as a lover?  They were great friends, as close as friends could be, was love out of the question?  No, love was never out of the question.   She already loved him in a way, had always loved him.  She recognized that now.  If only she knew earlier. 

          She loved him.  The startling, sobering, exhilarating realization stilled all else in her mind and caused her to gaze at his still form in the firelight and gray glow of pre-dawn.

          _Oh gods… I love him._

          For long moments she just watched him sleep and watched the light dance over his strong features, now relaxed in sleep to give him a more boyish appearance.  His deep, even breathing lulled her to near slumber, and she awoke with a start when she began to nod off the chair.  She needed to rest but did not want to sleep on the filthy, dirt floor.  The bed was large enough, barely, for two people but she was unsure if she should lay down with him, afraid he might wake up before her.  She didn't want to shock him into a coma.  However, she didn't have much choice and could only hope she was up and about before him.

End chapter 8.

Sorry it took so long to come out with this but I needed input on the last chapter to know if this one would be welcome.  Hopefully it will be.

Let me know how it went, please.


	9. the waking

Praetor        

Chapter 9: The Waking

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Again, nothing here is mine except the story line. DC owns the characters.

          And Earth, Air, and Light 

_          And the Spirit of Might_

_Which drives round the stars in their _

_                   fiery flight;_

_          And love, Thought, and Breath,_

_          The powers that quell Death,_

_Wherever we soar shall assemble_

_                   beneath!_

_                   ― Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)_

          Rising through a hazy fog of pain and sleep and black nothingness, J'onn began to slowly become aware of his surroundings and his physical self.  Gods of Mars, he hated waking up from these deep sleeps, it was as bad as a hangover he was so groggy and fuzzyheaded when he woke up that he sometimes did not care that this was a healing sleep.  It could be an annoyingly slow process, sometimes taking hours before he was fully back to normal and not functioning like a half-dead zombie.  During that time, he might as well be strapped down for all he was able to do and he was a complete liability to the League, much more so than usual.

          His entire body hurt.  He had not felt this sore since that last sparring session with Clark but this was worse.  It hurt so badly it made his teeth grind together― or it would have if that action didn't hurt as well.

          The wounds covering his body were still raw feeling, far from healed, and there was something lying curled on his arm.  Why was he waking up?  Shouldn't he still be asleep or at least unconscious?  And there was something on his arm, wasn't there?  Damn but thinking clearly was difficult when his brain felt like mush; he just wanted to go back to sleep.

          Several hours later, he was hovering between a deep sleep and a dream when that something on his arm moved to drape itself across his middle, causing some small jolt of pain as it rested on a bruise but no more than a thorn and he could ignore that.  What he could not ignore was the sensation of warm breath brushing over his shoulder.  That was impossible, he had not shared a bed with anyone in over ten thousand years.

          Where was he?  He wasn't dead; if he were he wouldn't be in this much pain.  Pain meant he was still living.  Something rough but fabric feeling was beneath him.  Did that mean he was lying on a blanket or a bed?  How did he get in a bed?  The last thing he remembered was… a battle…

          _I plunged a sword into that white spot… What happened after that?  Did we win?  Were the souls… freed?_

_          Oh gods… Diana.  She was with me… Gods of Mars, may she be unharmed_.

          With a great effort, he forced his eyes to open and for a moment, before his vision fully cleared, he could not understand what he was seeing.  All he could see were varying lights and darks.  Were those rafters?  Yes, they were, he was in a house.

          Pain exploded in his head but he forced himself to move, to move his head to the right to see what was laying on him and maybe find out what happened to Diana.         

          Blinking to further clear his vision, it took several moments to make himself believe what he was seeing and when he did, his breath arrested painfully in his battered chest.  

          It was Diana, her midnight-black hair and cream-white skin gently draped over his highly contrasting green body.  She was sound asleep, obviously oblivious to where she was sleeping and what affect this was having on him, it tore at him that it was so, that his feelings were to always be kept shut and secretive.  If only things could be different.

          Was she well?  What injuries had she taken on in what should have been his solitary battle?  

          On the outside, there did not appear to be any major wounds but there were bruises and a cut on her forehead that looked to be scabbed over well but was disquieting in his eyes all the same.  He did not like seeing her hurt even marginally.  Whatever more serious injuries she had obtained, if there were any, remained unknown to him, too weak to look deeper in his current condition.

          He berated himself for allowing her to accompany him on this journey.  Her life was put at too great a risk by that decision, the life he should have done everything in his abilities to keep safe.  She could have been killed.  If such a thing had occurred, he would have never forgiven himself.  He should never be forgiven.  

          There were a thousand thoughts running through his mind as he lay there sinking deeper into another sleep.  Why had she lain next to him?  

          At that moment, he was too weak and exhausted to seek an answer; he merely accepted it and covered her small hand with his own.

End 9.

This was pretty much fluff, pure and simple.  Not to worry, 10 will have more meat to it and not be so fluffy.  I hope you enjoyed this short intermission.


	10. the end

Praeter

Chapter 10: Final

**_T_**_his sets my heart_

_To fluttering in my breast,_

_For when I look on you a moment,_

_Then can I speak no more,_

_But my tongue falls silent,_

_And at once a delicate flame_

_Courses beneath my skin,_

_          And with my eyes I see nothing,_

_And my ears hum,_

_And a cold sweat bathes me,_

_And trembling seizes me all over,_

_And I feel near to death._

― Sappho (6th century B.C.E.) 

                                      "Fragment 2"

          Shifting in her lightening sleep, Diana instinctively snuggled closer to the warmth beside her and sighed deeply.  She didn't want to wake up nor did she want to move away from this rather nice heat source; it felt chilly about her.  Wait… what?  Why was it so cold, was there not a fire going earlier?  And what was she lying on?

          _O merciful Hera, it's J'onn!_

          She shot quickly into a sitting position in order to look down at him.  He appeared to be sleeping peacefully but she worried if perhaps she had inadvertently injured him further.  How could she have forgotten herself so badly that she had curled next to him in slumber?

          Gently so as not to wake him or hurt him, the immortal Amazon carefully lifted the bandages off his chest and could not hold back the grimace at the sight his wound presented.  It was still a nasty-looking wound, a scabbed mess of congealed, rust-coloured blood that dominated his broad chest, but it was no longer bleeding and not as raw looking as just yesterday.  She hoped he continued so well.

          Will he heal completely?  How long could it be until he was?  She wished she held the answers, her peace of mind might find it useful.  All she could do was pray for his safe return to the waking world.

          Waking.  She hoped he awoke soon.  This was not a place she wanted to spend a great deal of time in.

          So many questions for which she lacked answers, so many hopes and dreams for both of them that had never beheld light or were never known that could either find fertile soil between them or lie fallow and untilled forever.  And it all depended upon his waking so they could talk.  They _needed_ to talk.  About many things, about what had happened and what could happen.  So many truths had been revealed and so many still hidden that needed discussion but would those truths yet learned prove jubilant or would they cause misery?

          Funny how she of all people had no idea how these particular truths would affect them.  Alas but she did not.  She wanted to know how this all would work out but for that he would have to wake up and she would not rush him.

          Rebinding his chest wrappings, Diana began inspecting the rest of his injuries and what progress his swift metabolism had made in healing.  Minor bruises― of which there had been many― had already faded to almost non-existence while gashes and more intensive bruises appeared lighter and much better than the previous day.  

          His fast healing was probably the only thing that saved his life.  How she was thankful for it.  

          Moving along his long body in her inspections and gentle prodding, she came to the gash that sliced down his side to his leg.  That one had been difficult to bandage simply because of its odd location.  She had had to completely unclothe him to accomplish it and was at the time thankful he was unconscious.  It would have undoubtedly embarrassed the poor man were he awake.  It certainly made her face heat up in embarrassment.

          This gash looked far better as well.  He was healing very nicely.

          Replacing the bandages, she breathed a prayer of thanks to the goddesses for his having survived the night.  He was definitely going to survive.  Thank Hera.

          "I don't believe you've ever looked so relieved before," came a weak voice that pulled her from her reverie with a start.  J'onn was looking up at her in a somewhat dazed way she took to mean he was in a great deal of pain.  "Are you injured?"

          "No," she answered, breaking out of her surprise and relief quickly when he attempted to sit up.  The Amazon pushed him back down with a scowl, "but you most assuredly are and I don't think you should be moving only a day after what happened." She could not bring herself to actually utter the events, that he was nearly killed. "Just rest for now, please."

          J'onn relented without argument or grumble. She smiled and pulled the covering back up to his chest.  That had been easier than she expected.  

          For a time they lapsed into a strangely awkward silence as Diana scattered the embers of last nights fire and simply tried to keep her hands occupied and her mind off the talk the two of them were going to have to have soon.  It was not going to be an easy subject to broach, deep feelings often were.  She just had to have faith they would work it out.

          "What's wrong?" The Martian asked after several minutes, "You've been standing in the same spot staring out the window for the past fifteen minutes.  Is something troubling you?"

          Looking over to him, she smiled.  She should have realized he would pick up on her emotions.  "Sort of… We need to talk."  Moving to the bed, she sat beside him inwardly steeling herself for whatever may come.  True, she might be overreacting on how this conversation might go but she wanted to be prepared for anything.  "I, ah, read your letters…"

          Silence met her words; he looked overly uncomfortable now as he slowly sat up, no longer meeting her eyes.  An expression of pain and a strange sadness settled over his features, if she did not know better, she would swear he looked guilty as well.  What would he feel guilt over?  

          He looked so vulnerable.

          "I forgot about that thing," he finally mumbled under his breath.  "I'm sorry, Diana."

          Her eyebrows shot upwards at his apology. "For what?  You've done nothing wrong."

          Eyes never reaching hers, his gaze settled instead on his tightly fisted hands, his voice a low murmur, "For everything.  For giving you the letter.  For allowing you to follow me when you could have been seriously injured.  For falling in love with you.  I'm sorry because it should not have happened."

          She felt her own eyes narrow at him.  "You have nothing to apologize for.  I'm glad you gave me the letters; I just wish you felt you could have told me in person.  We've always shared a special relationship, J'onn, love can only add depth to what we already have."

          Waiting for his response, she was pleased when the look he held her with was surprised and a flash of something flared high and bright in the crimson depths of his eyes.  

          "Do you…" he did not finish his question for her smile hopefully answered it for him.  "Wow," he said after a pause and she nearly laughed out loud, the snort of amusement that managed to escape her only served to confuse him.  "What?"

          Shaking her head and fighting a new bout of giggles, she held up a hand to still any further questions or comments while she got herself under control.  "Nothing, sorry, that just wasn't exactly the reaction I was expecting."

          The look he gave her was one of such bemusement that he barely seemed able to find his voice.  "Um…what were you expecting, if you don't mind me asking?" 

          She paused for a moment, "more difficulty," she answered finally.  "Well, more awkwardness I suppose would be closer to what I was really expecting, and… I don't really know.  I've never thought of having an encounter quite like this before."  It was an honest answer, because she could rarely have pictured she and J'onn like this before the letters.  Before this mess began― if not for this mess, while being horrible in itself, she might never have received those letters, might never have taken the time to analyse her feelings towards him.

          Propping her chin on her hand, she grinned lightly at him, "We could almost thank the Reaper for this.  It seems the only good that's come from it."

          In response, J'onn smiled, "Yes, it is."  His smile vanished quickly as a sigh was dredged from deep in his chest, eliciting a wince from him, "Did you read _all _the letters?"

          Looking at him now, her brow furrowed in remembrance, Diana scowled at him.  "I've been meaning to talk to you about those.  The will I can almost understand seeing as how you didn't think you'd survive, but I want to know why in the cosmos you've written a suicide letter."  

          He winced at the last words and shifted uncomfortably.  "That one was written several months ago, it was after the white Martians fiasco.  I blamed myself for it and wrote that letter one night when I'd been drinking―"

          "You drink?"

          "No, but that night I did.  It seemed the right thing to do at the time," he smiled ruefully, "Gods, I was an idiot."

          She agreed wholeheartedly. "At least you didn't go through with it.  Getting drunk does usually mean one becomes an idiot.  So what happened?"

          "I passed out, woke up the next afternoon with a hangover I was completely deserving of and forgot about the letter or that I had placed it in that envelope." The Manhunter gave her a lopsided smile, "Can you forgive me for my stupidity?"

          "I suppose," she answered with a grin.

          "Could you give me my clothes back as well?  Please?"

          The princess nodded, a slight blush creeping over her cheeks as she stood and went to the chair she had occupied last eve and over the back of which she had laid his breeches before going to bed.  They were torn, bloodied, and pretty far gone from their original colour but she could do nothing to them to either repair or clean them.  At least they were in more or less one piece.

          Upon giving the breeches back to him, she retreated to the outside so he could have privacy while he dressed.  She did not venture far however, staying in sight of the small, stone building just in case he had need of her and mulled over their conversation.

          They seemed to have both agreed to give the relationship a chance and personally, she was looking forward to it.  She did love him, though as yet she had not expressed it in so many words― that would be remedied soon― she wanted to be with him.  She knew he loved her, but he seemed hesitant about showing his feelings.  Hopefully that would pass as they grew closer.  She wanted them to grow closer.

          He was so lonely in life; she saw it every time she looked into his eyes.  His eyes were the most expressive eyes she had ever seen.  In them she saw sadness, pain, more pain than she could imagine, the loneliness he was trapped with… when had she ever seen some happy emotion light his eyes?  Never as far as she could remember.  She found it difficult to picture him without some pain in his eyes and hoped one day she would see happiness one day in those depths.  

          "Diana?" His voice intruded upon her thoughts and caused her to look up at him, startled that he was standing just a sword's length away and she had never heard him.  With the light from the sun shining down on him, he was beautiful, she realized.  Strength and a potent masculinity radiated from him even injured as he was.

          His injuries… she stood quickly, closing the distance that separated them and touching his arm in concern, "Is something wrong?"

          He gave her an odd look, making her vaguely wonder if he had picked up on any of those last thoughts.  

          "No.  Everything's fine, it's just time we were going home…"

          Her hands tensed against his skin even as her eyes widened in worry, "Shouldn't you rest?  You were only injured yesterday, I don't want you injuring yourself further―"

          "I'll be fine.  The others still need our assistance in our world.  We've been gone probably too long already, they're undoubtedly worried by now."  It was obvious he would not be swayed in this.  He smiled down at her, "I'm flattered that you're so concerned for me but I'm fine.  I've had worse happen to me…"

          A thin black brow was arched high at this.  "Worse than getting run through?  I didn't think there was a worse than that."

          "Getting set on fire comes to mind," he replied with a sardonic grin.  "We need to go."

          "How?"

          He paused then; from his expression it was obvious he was unsure.  "I suppose the way we came, if the doorway's still open."

          "Can you still fly?" Diana asked, eyeing the bandages swathing his chest with concern.

          In answer he showed her, lifting her up with him.  She mock scowled at him and together they left the stone house for the portal that was leagues away.  A comfortable silence descended over them as they flew, hands lightly clasped.

          "I wonder if those castles are inhabited?" Diana mumbled to herself while staring out over the landscape rapidly moving below them.  From the distance they were, the castles looked like little models or images from a faery book, little worlds unto themselves.

          Beside her, J'onn made an 'hm' sound which made her look at him, "It's possible."  He then smiled at her, "Wishing we had time to sightsee, princess?"

          "No… Well, alright, a little.  Don't you?"

          "A little," he conceded.  Something caught his eye, causing him to look ahead and down, "I think that may be the doorway up there… Ready to go home?" He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  

          She nodded and smiled.  They landed quietly before the glowing portal and hesitated for perhaps the first time.  

          "You don't think we'll forget any of this when we go back, do you?" The Amazon asked, suddenly remembering stories on the Otherworld she had read before.  She did not want to forget any of this, especially their love.

          J'onn looked at the doorway with some trepidation now before turning back to her.  "If we do, I'm saying this now:  Diana, I love you."

          "I love you, too, J'onn," she said just before he bent his head and kissed her.  Gods, Hera, she prayed they forgot nothing, that they would remember this forever, for she did not want to forget this, the feel of his lips against hers or of his arms around her.  She wanted to remember how he felt in her own arms, how he tasted.  

          All too soon they broke apart and stepped through the looking glass with no backward glances, with only hope and love to lead them onward.

The End.


End file.
